Doubt
by ArwenLalaith
Summary: Tag to 'Devil's Night'. She used to think there was a mental box for everything...but once the clutter was cleared, there was no neat little box left for the worry about her children and world she was bringing them into. Co-written with Confetti Leaves.


Emily gave Rossi a faint smile that didn't quite reach her eyes as she left the room and let him take over with the interview with the victim's wife. If anyone asked, she would have to admit that she was relieved and frankly, more than happy to leave the room.

She sighed heavily, running a hand over her face, and leaned tiredly against the conference room door. She saw the man she wanted to see the most walking past, talking to a local cop, carrying a stack of files under his arm. She managed to catch his eye, giving him a significant look, silently telling him that they needed to talk.

Morgan caught her eye and watched her leave the station. He waited for several moments to avoid any suspicion from the local police before he followed, in search of his wife. He found her leaning heavily against the red brick wall of the building. "Are you okay, baby?" he murmured, wrapping his arms tightly around her.

"I'm so tired," she whispered, shutting her eyes tightly and running a hand through her hair.

"Do you want to go back to the hotel?" he asked softly, rubbing soothing circles down her back.

She sighed tiredly, shaking her head. "It's not the endless days or the sleepless nights...it's everything." She looked at him sadly. "It's the lying and the secrecy and the horrible things we see everyday. I just... I don't know how much longer I can do this."

Morgan frowned. They all had days where they talked like this, which was understandable when their days were so miserable as to be based around charred corpses and revenge killers. But he knew her well enough to know that this wasn't just one of _those _days... "What happened with the victim's wife?" he asked, gently – almost apologetically – peppering kisses on her face. "You were alright before you spoke to her."

"She asked if I was married," she replied simply without elaborating for several long minutes. "I don't want to lie anymore," she continued eventually, "I don't want to have to hide the fact that I'm married to the man I love – I can't even remember the last time I could wear my rings for an entire day – it's not fair of Strauss to ask that of us."

Morgan had had a feeling that Strauss's demand that no one outside the team know of their relationship if neither of them intended to transfer hadn't gone over quite as easily with Emily as she'd attempted to portray...but he also knew that Emily loved her job and the team and she worried about their ability to support the twins on one income, so she wasn't about to go arguing the point.

"I know, baby," he murmured, sighing quietly. "It's not fair, but it's the only way we can keep our jobs. We only have a few more months left before you go on maternity leave. Just hang in there, okay?"

"I don't know if I can..." she whispered, swallowing the lump rising in her throat, "I don't know if I _want _to."

He remained silent for a moment, slowly processing her words. "What are you suggesting, baby? He murmured softly, gently stroking her hair.

"I... I think I want to quit..." she whispered so quietly that he almost missed it.

"Come again?" he asked, looking into her eyes, stunned. "Did you say you might want to _quit_?"

"I... I don't know..." she stammered, biting her lip. "Everything is just starting to be too much...I'm tired of it all."

"It's okay, baby," he whispered, wrapping his arms tighter around her and resting his forehead against hers. "If you think it's better for you to switch to a desk job or even stay home and take care of our babies, then let's do it." He smiled encouragingly. "We did the math, even if one of us stops working, we can still provide for our family. We'll do whatever you think is best for you and the twins – you and my babies are more important than the job, okay?"

Emily nodded slowly, taking deep breaths to calm herself down. "This job wears people out, pushes them to the brink of oblivion. I never understood why Gideon just up and left before...but I get it now. I feel like I've been stretched too far – I've given everything I have to this job, I feel like I've got nothing left for myself."

"That's not true," he assured, gently stroking her cheeks, "You have me, you have the twins, and you have the team. You're not alone, you'll never be alone...I love you."

"I love you too," she murmured. "But I don't know much longer I can do this..." she sighed, looking at him sadly. "Our job revolves around evil, we're driven by death. That's not what I want from my life, that's not what I want to expose our children to."

"I know." As if on cue, his hand came to rest on the swell of her baby bump. "I know you're worried, but our babies won't only be exposed to that, they'll know that there's still some good left in this world. Even when it feels like the world is falling apart, they'll know that there are so many people who love them. They'll be fine because they'll have their Mommy and Daddy with them."

"They're being exposed to it already!" she burst out desperately, "They're developing their hearing, who knows what horrible things they've picked up on. I don't want them hearing about murder and serial killers before they're even born!"

"Hey, it's okay," he soothed. "Relax. What do you want to do now? If you want to quit, I'm alright with it. It's actually sort of better this way because now I won't have to worry myself sick any time you're out in the field."

Then, in classic Emily Prentiss fashion, she began to doubt herself. Biting at her lip as she debated internally, she asked – half wondering aloud to no one in particular, half actually seeking an answer from him, "But...is this too hasty? We might not _need _the money, but it would help. What if they're disable or sick or..." She trailed off, giving him a look of anxiety.

Once again, he repeated, "The doctor said they're completely healthy and they don't look like they have any abnormalities. We did all the genetic tests, they all came back with good news." Back on the subject of her sudden career decision, he reassured, "You don't have to do it now, just think about it. We can wait. Whatever you decide, I'll support you."

"I know." She nuzzled into his neck, pressing a soft kiss there. "This is scarier than any armed stand-off, any unsub...I don't think I'll ever really be ready for this. Especially if they come early as everyone seems to think they will – I don't know if I'll be ready to be a mom by then."

"I'm scared too, but we've done everything we can. We'll be as ready as we'll ever be. But you know what I think?"

"What do you think?" she echoed, still feeling rather crestfallen.

"I think that you're going to be a really great Mommy," he with genuine faith.


End file.
